


Ghost

by void_dreamers



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, only Scott is in there very briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 11:53:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10555876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/void_dreamers/pseuds/void_dreamers
Summary: Malia meets an old friend. Unfortunately, her old friend is now a ghost.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been revising for my exams so I was in a writing hiatus. But I passed my French exam so to celebrate, I wrote this. Enjoy :)

Malia carefully placed the picture frame on the shelf, her fingers lightly trailing the image of her sister smiling brightly, her innocent eyes staring back at her.

A small smile splayed across Malia’s face as she turned back around, resting her hands on her hips as her eyes slowly tracked across the light blue walls. It was a fairly large room. She had remotely no idea why Cora would want to trade.

Ah yes, because of ghosts. Malia lightly scoffed in amusement as the thought of her tough and independent cousin barged into her room, carrying two large boxes in her arms and demanding that they switch rooms because her room was apparently ‘haunted’.

She never ceased to surprise her in the large amount of time she knew her.

Malia was grateful to have Cora in her life since the accident. The day a large gaping hole clawed its way into Malia’s heart when she was nine; the day her adoptive mother and sister died in a car accident but she survived. Her father was deemed unfit to take care of her ever since the Sheriff found her constantly wandering off to the crash site every night.

It was for the best. Even though she loved him, Malia knew that her father would be unable to cope, especially with his drinking problem. So, the Sheriff took care of her for a few months until he was able to find her biological family. Malia knew she was adopted but the revelation still hurt like hell and the hole grew even bigger, threatening to turn her heart into an empty and dark shell.

Luckily, the sheriff had a son to help her through the process. He was very clumsy and awkward but he made her laugh with his pranks and constant sarcasm. He was very kind and sweet too, constantly comforting her whenever she woke up crying in the middle of the night.

They may have been young but they made a connection with each other, a blossoming friendship. He had lost his mother quite young aswell, so the two could relate to each other. They both thought they were at fault. It was he who helped Malia realise that the best she could do to honour her family was to live. Live her life and make them proud.

After she moved in with the Hales, she lost contact with him. She grew increasingly miserable but she had found a friend in her cousin, Cora. Her brother, Derek, helped her grow as a person and looked out for her in every way possible. She found a family in them. Her heart was whole again after that. She would be forever grateful for the Hales in taking her in and treating her as family. But there was a part of her deep down that will also credit her first friend for bringing the pieces together and shaping them to become what she was now today.

Malia sighed deeply and ran a hand through her tangled hair. She lightly shivered as a tingling coolness dripped down her back, the hair at the back of her neck standing up. Malia half turned to look over her shoulder when a sudden but brief glimmer of mist emerged out of the corner of her eye.

Frowning in curiosity, Malia turned all the way so she was now staring at the picture frame. She hardened her gaze as she watched intently in concentration. She was sure she saw someone. Someone familiar. Someone she hasn’t seen in years. She just had to be sure.

There it was again. The form of a person abruptly materialized out of nowhere, like a flash of light rapidly emerging as fast as the click of someone’s fingers.

Malia flinched back, her knees bumping against her bed and causing her to immediately plop down the bed, the comforter evenly bouncing as she sat. Malia hastily looked around, her brown hair flowing around her as she moved her head from side to side. She was alone in the room, no one else.

She was sure she had seen that person before. She furrowed her brows as she intently thought of the few people she met in her lifetime.

The flash, or — whatever it is, it was extremely familiar but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

——

In three weeks, Malia had learned that Cora was right. The room was indeed haunted.

She didn’t think it was even possible but it was haunted.

Malia thought it was just a classic Hale prank but it wasn’t likely considering Derek and Cora are way too mature for their ages.

For the first two weeks, Malia would always wake up to see her room disarrayed in any sense. Books would be hidden away, clothes would be arranged differently in her closet and several knickknacks would be placed in an altered location to each other. But her picture frame would always be untouched. As if it was protected.

And that was all Malia could think about. Her thoughts plagued her mind as she tossed and turned in her bed, trying to get comfortable even though she was practically covered in warmth from the extra blankets.

After an hour of restless moving, Malia eventually opted to lie flat on her back, her eyes blankly staring at the ceiling. She focused on the rhythmic tick from the clock, the noise surprisingly calming. Eventually, Malia let the familiar blackness of sleep wash over her, her eyes feeling increasingly heavier. The minute she closed her eyes, sleep came like the falling of an axe.

The sound of muffled scraping woke Malia from her dreamless sleep. She softly grumbled as her eyes slowly opened, her vision blurry as she took in her surroundings. She lifted her head and rubbed her eyes as the pale light of the early morning sunrise glistened into the room, radiating the opposite wall.

The sound of muffled scraping woke Malia from her dreamless sleep. She softly grumbled as her eyes slowly opened, her vision blurry as she took in her surroundings. The pale light of the early morning sunrise glistened from the window, radiating the room.

She stretched as she sat up, rubbing her tired eyes. As her vision cleared, she looked around slowly, her eyes travelling until it fixated at her dresser. She narrowed her eyes, unsure whether she was still asleep.

She watched, her breath hitching as a shimmer of mist emerged, a chill in the air arriving with it. Through it, the furniture became slightly out of focus, like a fuzzy photograph. It wasn’t until Malia blinked that the mist congealed into a form- an apparition.

It was a boy, a guy. He seemed oblivious that Malia was awake since he was busy moving her ornaments across her shelf. Malia shuffled back so her back came in contact with the headboard, her breaths coming out short but deep.

She should say something. Anything. Scare him away and leave to him to face the wrath of Derek. But nothing was surfacing. She was speechless.

She furrowed her brows in confusion as she watched him. He didn’t seem to be dangerous or threatening. He continued to play with the small metal coyote on the shelf, making small whooshing noises like a child. If anything, he seemed to be bored. Like he wanted someone to talk to him.

Out of the corner of her eye, Malia quickly reached for the small clock on her bedside table, her eyes never leaving the stranger. She was stunned at how calm she was reacting. She curled her hand around it, her grip tightening like a lifeline as she stealthily brought the clock closer to her.

“Hey” she called out, her voice harsher than she meant it to be.

The stranger instantly jumped and let out a small shriek, turning around so he was facing her. His widened eyes and slanted upwards eyebrows quickly turned into an expression of shock, his brows furrowed in confusion and his forehead scrunched. “Wait, you can see me?”

“Duh! I don’t know how you got in my room and why you’re still here, but get the hell out of my house before I call the cops!”

He slowly raised both of his hands and took a step forward, making sure that a distance was still between them. “Look, let me explain. I promise I’m not a freak but-“

Malia growled at the back of her throat, raising her hand and promptly threw the clock at him, her aim sharp and precise. She froze, her eyes widening as she witnessed the small clock pass through him and hitting the cupboard behind him. She let out a small gasp in disbelief.

“Wha- really? You think that’s gonna work on a ghost?” he sarcastically quipped.

Malia’s eyes gaped at him in disbelief, her mouth slightly open. Her eyes roamed across his face, her mind perplexed. She was unaware that Stiles frowned, shifting on his feet as her staring creating an awkward atmosphere.

She definitely knew him from somewhere. She eyed him up and down as she tilted her head to the right. A small smile forming, he did the same and raised his eyebrows in amusement. She did admit, he was attractive: lean build, tall and his hair spiked up in a bed-like but neat style.

She took in his features: his bone structure, the moles scattered across his face. And his eyes. The rising sun illuminated the honey brown orbs, the softness in them. Her lips parted in recognition and she straightened up, her guard instantly crashing down.

It was him. The moles and the eyes gave it away. Her first friend.

“Stiles?” she asked. Her voice came out in a shaky murmur, still unsure whether she was dreaming.

Stiles nodded, his smile spreading into a grin.

——-

“Stiles!” Malia whispered and shouted in the same combination, her hands gripping the railing as she rushed down the stairs, her head whipping back and forth as she scanned the room for Stiles.

It’s been almost seven months since she found out her friend was a ghost. At first, she was happy that she met Stiles again and she had asked him so many questions about his life. And when she tried to hug him, she was reminded of the fact that he had actually died. Her happiness instantly transformed into sorrow and grief. Just when the tears were about to roll down, Stiles at once comforted her and cheered her up by making her laugh. In fact, she hadn’t laughed that much since she arrived.

During the time they spent together, Malia learned that Stiles grew up to be very sarcastic and hyper, but kind and loyal. The guy loved to explore. Whatever he found, he was determined to find out where it came from and what he could do with it. It was a delight.

Unfortunately, she had to keep Stiles’ ghostly existence a secret since it would make her look crazy if Derek or Cora walked in on her and she would be talking to herself or playing card games on her own.

So every day, she would sneak up into the attic and spend the entire afternoon with Stiles until the sun went down. Sometimes, she would watch him as he played with the objects in the house or watch TV alongside Derek or Cora, bored out of his mind. It was times like this when he wished he could reveal himself to them but he knew they would react in the opposite way he wants them to.

So he takes out his frustration on the house. He doesn’t want to but it’s the only way he knows how. Sometimes, Malia felt like she needed to do something. Anything that would end his loneliness and suffering.

But she had to confess, sometimes Stiles would annoy the shit out of her. Playing harmless pranks, moving stuff around the house, disappearing acts now and then. And that was why Malia was searching the house top and bottom.

She entered the library and sighs in relief as her eyes land on Stiles reading in the corner. Malia swiftly shut the door behind her before she made her way to Stiles, curling up on the chair opposite him.

Malia didn’t say anything and simply watched him as he read, narrowing his eyes at him. Stiles lifted his eyes from the book to look at her. Their eyes met and neither one of them said anything, their eyes becoming their only form of communication as they conveyed all the words they wanted to say to each other.

Stiles kept her gaze, the softness and the warmth radiating from him everytime he blinked. After a few seconds, he let out a small sigh and closed his book. “I’m not telling you”

Malia ran a hand through her hair, tearing her gaze from Stiles to the floor. “Please. I just want to help”

A smile spread across Stiles’ face. “I know you do. But um….” Stiles trailed off as he looked at Malia. Her eyes gleamed with an array of emotions. Mostly worry, loneliness, joy, peace and… hope. She really is beautiful, he thought.

“Soon.”

Malia smiled, the genuine sweetness and a small touch of shyness sending unexpected warmth in Stiles.

——-

“Seriously, Stiles. What are we doing?” Malia asked in a hushed tone as Stiles guided her to the attic, one hand covering her eyes and the other holding her hand, guiding her so she didn’t fall.

“Don’t worry. You’ll see” Malia let out a small laugh as Stiles opened the door and walked forward until he eventually stopped both of them in their tracks.

“Ookkaayy, you can open your eyes now” Stiles removed his hand and stood beside Malia, watching her as she slowly opened her eyes.

A grin slowly formed across Malia’s face as she surveyed the room in awe.

Right in the middle of the room was a fort made out of soft blankets, fairy lights placed on the lining, giving light inside. Inside was a large bedspread set up with blankets and pillows, with trays of snacks, cards and a TV placed inside.

“Holy shit, Stiles. This is amazing! How long did this take you?” Malia positively beamed, looking at Stiles in complete awe.

Stiles shrugged, a shy smile forming. “Don’t worry about that. Just mask in the glory of this epic blanket fort and enjoy yourself. And that’s not even the best part. Look”

Stiles put his hands on Malia’s shoulders and walked both of them to the window, both of them looking out at the sky.

Malia smiled, looking out the window as they both admired the view, the sun emitting a warm orange glow onto the pair. Stiles stared at Malia, watching her as she witnessed the sun fall behind the horizon, painting the sky purple and amber. He beamed at her wonderment, tenderly moving a strand of her soft brown hair behind her ear, his hand gently lingering on her neck as his thumb briefly caressed the spot underneath her ear.

Malia averted her gaze to Stiles and shot him a grateful smile. She softly kissed him on the cheek and moved past him, slipping her boots off and lying in the fort, getting comfortable. After a moment, Stiles joined her, the pair lying side by side and stuffing themselves with popcorn whilst they watched Star Wars.

Soon after, they sprawled themselves on their stomach, their forearms touching and the blanket covering both of them as they looked out the window, gazing at the twinkling stars in the twilight sky.

“My dad” Stiles murmured in a quiet voice after a moment of silence.

Malia frowned and turned her head. “Is he dead?” she asked in a blunt but worried voice.

Stiles let out a chuckle before clearing his throat. “No. My dad is the reason I’m still here. Every ghost exists because they have unfinished business. Mine is that I want to talk to my dad one last time”

“What about?”

He shrugged, pursing his lips. “Just stuff”

Malia nodded. She knew he was lying but she didn’t press him for more. She turned back to the window. The pair stared out the window and staying quiet, allowing themselves to get lost in the moment of two friends being together.

Friends. Maybe more.

——-

“OK, what is it?”

Malia looked up and saw Derek raising his eyebrows at her, his eyes full of concern.

Malia cleared her throat and shook her head. “It’s nothing. Just thinking about stuff”

“Must be important. You barely touched your food” Malia frowned at him and looked at her plate, her food mashed up as she realized that she used her fork to play with her food, scraping most of it to the side.

Malia sighed and looked up at Derek, who munched on his food as he stared at her in expectation. Sometimes she was surprised at how well he knew her. He already knew how Malia acted and looked at him whenever she needed something from him.

“Do you know what happened to the Stilinskis? The sheriff and his son?”

Derek knitted his eyebrows together in puzzlement. “Why do you want to know about the Stilinskis?”

Malia shrugged innocently. “Just curious. I remember when I used to be really familiar with them”

Derek sucked in a breath as he racked his mind. “Um… well.” Derek cleared his throat before he answered her. “I knew the sheriff quite well actually. And his son. He was a real hyperactive spazz, and he would almost always sneak into the sheriff’s crime scenes and try to help him out. And, um, the week you turned eighteen, his son- Stiles, I think his name was- got caught in crossfire between the police and the suspects. He was shot to death near our house and his dad was heartbroken. Blamed himself”

“Oh.” Derek nodded solemnly as Malia gulped, her mind immediately filling with sorrowful thoughts. “That’s so sad. Is he OK now? The sheriff?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“Yeah.” Derek replied in an equally quiet voice, but it was filled with care. “But he recently had a heart attack. Cora’s visiting him in the hospital now”.

Malia nodded and smiled at Derek with pathos, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her mind steadily formed a plan. She knew what to do.

——-

Malia cautiously walked up to Stiles, her eyes downcast as she wore an inscrutable expression.

“Hey, you’re just in time. How do you feel about a Marvel marathon, starting with Iron Man?” He held up a DVD case, turning to her. His smile faded as he saw her, frowning. She wringed her hands together, shifting on her feet nervously as she looked down at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with him. “You OK?”

She nodded, lifting her head to meet Stiles’ concerned gaze. She opened her mouth and soon closed it as she struggled to find words.

“Um, I know why you are here” Stiles cocked his chin downwards as he silently questioned her. Malia licked her suddenly dry lips and stepped closer to him. “Your unfinished business is to tell your dad that it wasn’t his fault that you died. You want to reassure him that you don’t blame him”

Stiles’ throat abruptly went dry as he struggled to talk. He nodded slowly as her words sunk in, clasping his hands together. Malia stood there, observing as he took a deep breath. His fingers moved across the edge of the table, eerily slow.

“Please say something” she pleaded.

She quickly stepped back when Stiles suddenly yelled in frustration, angrily flipping the table across the room, all the anger and frustration and loneliness spewing out that he kept bottled up. Malia gawked at him, her mouth open in surprise whilst Stiles angrily grabbed whatever he could find and flinging them across the room. The sound of objects breaking and furniture crashing echoed through the room.

Stiles breathed deeply, his lungs filling with much needed oxygen as his breath came out short. He slumped to the floor, resting his head back against the wall in exhaustion. He clenched his eyes shut, the tears spilling out of his eyes down to his flushed cheeks.

Malia cautiously approached him, like she would to a wounded person and kneeled down so they were eye level. “I’m sorry” she whispered but Stiles shook his head.

“I’ve been here for nearly a year now. Being eighteen forever and living in complete isolation doesn’t exactly scream heaven, does it” he attempted a light hearted chuckle but his hoarse voice- from all the yelling- didn’t convince her.

“Shh, Stiles. Look at me” Malia urged, her hands resting on the sides of his face, her thumbs gently stroking his cheeks as she steadily gripped his face. “I know you’re tired and alone, but I want to help you. I’ll do anything if it means you get to stop suffering”

Stiles let out a deep breath, his eyes rising to meet hers. He calmed as he focused on the concerned and determined gaze that filled her eyes. “What do you want me to do? Please, tell me what you want”

Stiles shook his head again, his eyes filled with despair as his hands gripped Malia’s wrist like a lifeline. “I just want to talk to my dad”

Malia dropped her hands from his face, curling them around his shoulders as she brought Stiles closer into a hug, his body melting into her’s as she rest her cheek comfortly on the top of his head. 

——-

Waking up was no longer the pleasure it was. Noah woke up every day, knowing that he would have to face the day without his son. He would never hug his son again or talk to him. Every day, he would open his eyes and the first thing he would think about was the family he lost. Claudia, Stiles.

Rousing from his heavy slumber, he opened his eyes and sighed inwardly, slowly shifting into a sitting position, his head resting against the comfortable, soft pillows.

He rubbed his eyes and his vision cleared enough to see a young girl sheepishly standing by the door, biting her lip nervously as she pondered what to do.

After a moment, he recognized her and beamed brightly at her. “Malia! Nice to see you again”

Malia’s nervousness immediately washed away and she smiled back, slowly approaching him and sitting in the beside chair. “Hi, Mr. Stilinski. It’s been so long”

“Yes it has. Nice of you to visit” he warmly placed his hand on top of Malia’s, in a fatherly way. He remembers her from when Stiles played with her when they were kids. When he sent her to live with the Hales, he promised Stiles that she would be fine. And she is; she’s a beautiful young woman now.

“Yeah. I heard you had a heart attack so I just had to come see if you were OK” Noah flashed a warm smile at her before the two talked, catching up. They had laughed for a while and had even comforted each other about Stiles’ death.

“Hey, um… there’s something I have to tell you about Stiles. But please don’t freak out” Noah crinkled his forehead in slight perplexity but nonetheless nodded, listening intently to what she had to say.

——–

“OK, one more step” Cora said as she held Noah’s hand, helping him up the steps as Derek held his other hand, opening the door for him.

Derek quickly brought up a chair for him, which Noah thanked him for before politely shrugging him off. He was definitely grateful for the help but sometimes he wanted to show that he still has strength in him. 

“You know when I agreed to this, I must have been crazy.” he said to Derek who chuckled in response.

“Yeah but Malia isn’t the crazy type. She knows what she’s doing.” Cora assured him. She gave a pointed look at Derek who sighed.

When Malia told them what she was planning, Cora and Derek honestly thought she was on drugs. They definitely believed her when she vehemently denied. They knew their cousin well; she wouldn’t make this up.

“Malia! The Sheriff’s here!” Cora called out at the bottom of the stairs. She heard a muffled response and some shuffling. She let out a breath as they patiently waited.

Malia looked down from the railing at the group. She licked her lips and exhaled as she turned to Stiles. He paced up and down, biting his fingernail nervously.

“Ready?” she asked him. He looked at her and shook his head. Malia placed a hand on his forearm in comfort. “Hey. You can do this”

Stiles nodded and exhaled in anticipation. Malia smiled in reassurance and moved to go down the stairs.

“Wait” Stiles called out and tugged Malia by the arm, spinning her back to him. Malia opened her mouth to speak and Stiles leaned in, capturing his lips with hers. Malia widened her eyes in surprise before she closed them, revelling in the kiss.

Stiles moved her back so she was leaning against the wall, one hand cupping the back of her neck and the other gently grasping her hip.

The kiss was soft and sweet, comforting in ways words couldn’t. Stiles tilted his head, deepening the kiss, making it more passionate. Her hand curled into his shirt before they skated up his back and gently clutched the back of his hair.

They both drew back, softly gasping for air, as they slowly opened their eyes and stared into one another’s.

“What was that?” Malia whispered.

“Just in case. Thank you” his voice low and husky. Malia softly chuckled, her hands slipping off his forearms and back to her sides.

She cleared her throat and fixed her hair. “OK then. Let’s go”

Malia smiled again in reassurance before she glided down the stairs, stopping halfway as she gripped the railing, leaning her arms as she looked at Noah. Derek and Cora straightened in expectance and looked from Noah to Malia.

“OK, sheriff? You ready?” Malia asked shakily.

Noah took a deep breath and wiped his sweaty hands on his knees, the nervous feeling creeping up. He nodded and tensed, bracing himself for the worst.

Malia looked at her cousins, who nodded. Malia turned to the top of the stairs. “OK, come on out”

Everyone in the hallway waited in anticipation for a moment until a chill in the air softly flew throughout the room, a small shimmer of mist manifesting. A moving outline of a body emerged, gradually transforming from a fuzzy shape to a fully corporeal form of Stiles Stilinski, anxiously walking down the stairs. Malia moved back, allowing everyone to clearly view him.

Derek and Cora looked at each other in shock and moved to the side, giving the father and son enough space to reunite.

Noah stood up, his face a mask of shock. Stiles looked at his father, slowly walking down the stairs, taking a heavy step down. As he walked down, Noah’s breath hitched and his eyes watered, tears forming at the sight of his son once again. He thought it was impossible but he was here. His son was actually here.

Noah’s expression gradually and all at once transformed from shock, to awe and then finally to happiness. A thankful smile slowly etched across his face as Stiles stopped, standing in front of him. Not sure what to do, Stiles kept his arms by his side as his brain took in the much needed sight of his father.

“Dad” Stiles croaked out, his voice hoarse as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“Stiles” Noah whispered with a grin, as he happily threw his arms around him and vice versa, each of them melting into each other’s arms into a tight hug. “You’re here. I can’t believe you’re actually here”

Derek wrapped an arm around Cora, who hugged his sides and moved her head into his chest as they watched father and son reunite. Malia nodded to them and smiled, tears forming as they all left the room, giving them the time and space needed.

Stiles moved back to see his father once again before pulling him in a brief but tight hug again. He moved them to the chairs in the hallway, each of them talking and happily answering the questions they asked each other.

——–

Three months.

That’s how long it has been since Stiles moved on.

They reunited and Stiles was finally able to tell his father what he had wanted to say since his death. He parted ways with Malia, giving her one last kiss goodbye in the attic. Three months later and here they are.

Rows of tombstones stood side by side, in silence all across the yard. Left and right, front and behind like a sea of the dead. Some were cracked and crumbling of old age and some were smooth marble, recently planted not long ago.

Malia stood in front of newly planted tombstone, the refreshing grey marble standing out against the faded grey tombstones beside it.

Here lies Noah Stilinski. Outstanding Sheriff of Beacon Hills. Beloved father.

He bowed out not long after Stiles moved on. Another heart attack- this time it was fatal. At least he was in peace. He was with his family- buried next to them and after death, wherever they are now.

Malia stood with her arms crossed, the wind blowing her hair back as she stared up at the surroundings, her eyes blankly travelling across the graveyard. She heard the grass crunch underneath the soft footprints as it grew closer.

Cora stopped beside her, her eyes surveying the tombstones with her hands in her jacket pockets. “It’s OK to be sad. After all that time you guys spent together, you miss him like crazy”

“Yeah” Malia sadly nodded. “At least they’re all together”

Cora nodded, wrapping an arm around Malia in comfort, drawing her closer. She shook her head slightly as she looked down. After a moment of silence, Cora drew back and looked at her. “Hey, look on the bright side. You guys will see each other again”

Malia scoffed and turned to Cora, her sadness temporarily shifting into playfulness. “There’s a 70% chance that I will be 80 when I see him again”

Cora shrugged in amusement. “Who knows, maybe you might miraculously turn young again like they do in the movies and then you two will kiss and live happily ever after”

“Oh shut up” Malia let out in a burst of laughter as she bumped Cora’s shoulder with her own, the two letting out a chuckle, which quickly died down into silence.

Cora gave Malia one last consoling hug before she turned to leave. “Oh and there’s someone who wants to see you” she told her before she left the cemetery, giving the person a smile as she walked past him.

Malia sighed and turned around, walking a few steps to the exit before she stopped in her tracks, a few feet away from the person in front of her.

It took a while but she recognized him. She frowned as her mind absorbed the person standing in front of her. He was tall and had an athletic build- which was shown through the black tux he was wearing-, with olive light skin and a slightly uneven jaw. Malia’s eyes widened in recognition and she scoffed in disbelief.

“Scott?”

She remembered him. He was Stiles’ best friend. She met him when they were kids. She remembered the extremely kind kid that welcomed Malia into the group with open arms.

Scott smiled sheepishly and nodded. “Hey, Malia”.

Malia smiled and walked up to him, her pace rapidly turning into a jog as she ran into his open arms, embracing him as he wrapped his arms around her.

——

The doctor rushed in the room as the beeping grew more frantic. He took one quick look before he expertly took over from the nurses, who skilfully gave the doctor everything he needed to handle the situation.

A nurse quickly led Derek and Cora out of the room, to their protests.

“Hey, no! That’s our cousin, she’s family!” Cora exclaimed as the nurse led her out of the room, taking one last look at the sight of Malia flat lining on the hospital bed, her eyes closed and her body pulsating on the bed as she went into cardiac arrest.

Malia watched from a distance as the doctors urgently tried to help her. She felt disorientated, the people becoming a blur past her as she focused on the scene in front of her. She watched as her body slowly went limp, all feeling leaving her body all at once. 

She blinked and suddenly, she was alone. She walked down the hallway, looking around at the ethereal atmosphere. The lighting was much brighter and she carried on walking, as if she was being drawn to a large energy force. She needed to find the light.

Her footsteps loudly echoed around the building as she walked. As she turned a corner, her breath caught in her throat as she gradually stopped.

Stiles stood and smiled at her warmly, right in the centre of the hallway, standing a few feet between Malia and the exit. Malia’s brain took him in, struggling to comprehend that this was actually happening and this is real.

Malia’s mask of shock that she wore steadily changed into an expression of bliss as she took slow and small steps towards him.

“Hi” she simply said. She mentally kicked herself. She didn’t know what to say to him after unexpectedly seeing him when she was about to move on.

“Hi. I’m sorry I don’t have any flowers and chocolates. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have any money” he sarcastically joked, a smile etched on his face.

Malia laughed, eventually halting so she was a few steps away from Stiles. He beamed as they held their gazes, his eyes roaming around her, as her expression quickly turned from contempt to skepticism.

“Stiles, why am I here? What’s going on?”

Stiles lovingly shushed her, his warm hands covering her shaky ones as he clasped them together. “Don’t worry, Malia. It’s not your time yet. You need to go back and live your life. A full and happy one- a life where you do everything you want and go to the places you want to go”

Malia nodded, her lips tightly pressed together as the distress in her quickly washed away. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Stiles gently took her face in his hands, his thumb wiping away a stray tear that had fallen. He tenderly kissed her forehead, savouring the feel of her one last time before he bowed out.

A sudden burst of light briskly flooded the hallway, the pair of them caught in the heat as the brightness seared across everything.

Malia gasped deeply, her eyes opening like two flashlight beams. Her eyes travel across the ceiling, her vision clearing as she realised where she was. She was back in the hospital bed, heart beating as it should be.

The constant beep of the machine steadily beeped into a pattern, her heart beat gradually turning back to normal.

She was alive. He saved her.

**Author's Note:**

> WHEW! Hope you liked it.


End file.
